


Too Early For This

by HarlequinJ94



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: DMC Gen Week, DMC Gen Week 2019, Gen, Light Angst, Scars, Tumblr: dmcgenweek, pre-dmc5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29242920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarlequinJ94/pseuds/HarlequinJ94
Summary: Even people with ridiculous healing factors scar if they get injured enough.
Kudos: 20





	Too Early For This

**Author's Note:**

> Originally part of DMC Gen Week 2019 on Tumblr. Cross-posted here because I needed something on this account. Day 1: Injury/Healing.

Dante couldn’t consider it a normal day at the office if one of the girls didn’t barge in and demand something of him. That day was no different; Dante could tell it was Lady by the telltale door slam that was sure to further dent the wall. Not that he cared – any money that he had to fix it would just go to paying back his never ending debt to the woman anyway.

  


“You’re early today,” he commented by way of greeting, ambling down the steps. “Five minutes earlier and you’d’ve had a better show.”

  


“Yeah, I’m sure,” she scoffed. “I came to get that client info Morrison dropped off the other day.”

  


Dante stopped just before his desk, hands stilling the towel on his head and eyes blinking in confusion. Lady rolled her eyes.

  


“Oh, forget it. I’ll find it.”

  


Dante watched her walk over to the table and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  


He resumed drying his hair while she shifted through the loose files. He took note of his bare arm as he tossed the towel onto the back of his chair, belatedly realizing that he neglected to grab a shirt before heading downstairs from the shower. _It’s fine_ , he thought to himself. It wasn’t like anyone that frequented the shop hadn’t seen him shirtless already.

  


He slid into his chair and threw his feet up on the desk’s surface. Lady had moved on from the table and was heading his way. He opened the top drawer for her then grabbed a nearby magazine, idly leafing through the pages as she continued her search. She started to mutter something about the messy state of his office, but he tuned her out. He was sure it wasn’t anything that Patty wasn’t going to gripe about later whenever she came by.

  


Dante’s eyes were quickly losing focus on the article he was skimming, but a quick whack to his skull knocked him out of it.

  


“Hey! What was that for?”

  


“I said move your feet!”

  


“You didn’t have to hit me!”

  


“If you listened to me, I wouldn’t have to hit you!”

  


Dante crossed his arms. Lady responded with a hand on her hip and head tilt. The two adults remained at an impasse for a few moments, but Dante caught the subtle twitch of her trigger finger and decided it was too early for a bullet to the chest.

  


“Whatever,” he groaned. With a grunt, he lifted his feet and brought them to the floor. Ignoring Lady’s victory smirk, he got up from his seat and walked over to the kitchen to get some water. Thinking about getting shot made him thirsty.

  


As he filled the glass and brought it to his lips, he sensed that feeling at his back – that feeling that plagued him most of his childhood and on occasion even now. That hard, blatant stare of someone trying to figure him out. Even after all this time he never got used to it and he hated being around normal people because of it.

  


A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Lady, folder in hand, was indeed mildly glaring at his back. Dante refilled his glass and pointedly ignored the woman, hoping she’d get the hint and cut it out. Instead (because she always actively chose to do the opposite of what he wanted), she walked straight up to him and tapped the manila folder against the middle of his back.

  


“Has that always been there?”

  


“Has what always been where?” Dante couldn’t keep the hint of annoyance out of his tone.

  


“This scar on your back. I didn’t think you even got scars.”

  


Blue eyes peered back over his shoulder to get a glimpse at the pale patch of skin. The edges were jagged and the shape uneven, but it was no wider than the width of his hand the last time he checked. Then again, that was a while ago.

  


“Heh, you like it? Got a matching one right here.”

  


Lady’s eyes widened almost comically when Dante spun around to show her his chest. Just below eye-level was another rough-looking patch of skin except this one was about twice as big as the other. Lady actually took a small step back in disbelief, too stunned to catch herself.

  


“Wha- How?!”

  


“Got stabbed,” Dante responded way too casually.

  


“By what? The Sparda?”

  


“Rebellion.” He leaned against the counter and tilted his head back in thought. “And Yamato. Alastor that one time.” His eyebrows scrunched as he fought to remember. “Actually make that twice on Rebellion, I think? I dunno.”

  


Dante forced a smirk and a laugh, but Lady continued to stare at him dumbfounded. At a loss, he grabbed and downed the last of his water. He couldn’t understand what the problem was. She saw him take hits plenty of times over the years. Hell, she was the direct cause of about 90% of his bullet wounds. His eye started to twitch. _What’s the big deal?_

  


“You get stabbed in the same place every time?”

  


Lady’s voice was so small and quiet that Dante wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear it. Still, the effect it had on him was instant. He hastily pushed himself off the counter and past her to escape the now oppressive atmosphere in the kitchen. _It’s too early for this_ , he thought bitterly, heading up the steps to his room. Upon reaching it, he grabbed the first shirt he put his hands on, not caring how wrinkled it was, and threw it on.

  


He did his best to smooth it down over his torso. His hand lightly brushed over the scar, the action immediately bringing up a slew of memories and emotions that he wasn’t mentally equipped to deal with. He nearly gave himself whiplash trying to shake them out of his head. Then, he drew in a nice, long, deep breath and exhaled just as slowly. The calm rush doused the energy that was trying to claw its way out and he repeated the action until he could feel it in his bones.

  


There was no telling how long it took for Dante to blank his mind enough before he was willing to open his eyes. By the time he made his way back downstairs, Lady was gone. Letting out a sigh, he retook his usual position at his desk. He made to grab for the magazine he had earlier, but his hand automatically reached for the antique phone he kept on the desk and removed the receiver. He huffed then grabbed the magazine to open and place over his face. As his eyes slipped closed, he briefly debated locking the front door, but decided against it. If someone needed him something from him today, he’d leave a way for them to come get him.

  


He wasn’t that heartless.


End file.
